


Whenever She Wants

by noodlecatposts



Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [6]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Prompt Fic, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: Feyre can kiss Rhys whenever she wants.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Inner Circle - Relationship
Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612852
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	Whenever She Wants

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fic! In my head, this takes place in the same universe as Maybe Next Time.
> 
> Prompt: 40. A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

It was a beautiful perfect day. 

Everyone was there, getting along. The flowers were perfect, and the cake survived a near miss. They lost an older, family friend, but Cassian found him before he could wander too far from the property. Mor ripped her dress. A disaster, but in a rare show of solidarity, Nesta stitched it back together. Just in time.

The weather was cool, and the sun was shining. 

And Feyre was getting married to Rhys.

No man should be allowed to look as good in a suit as her fiance did. Feyre was going to have a tough time keeping her eyes off of him tonight, soaking in the clean, hard lines of his body in his flawless black suit. But that was okay. Today of all days, Feyre was allowed to stare at Rhys.

She barely heard what the officiant was saying; her attention solely locked on Rhys, on his shining violet eyes and free, happy smile. There was a time when Rhys didn’t smile very much, a time when she didn’t either, but they healed, together, and now Feyre’s face usually hurts at the end of the day from all the smiling she does.

“I do,” Rhys told the officiant, without breaking eye contact with Feyre. Her heart flipped in excitement, and distantly, she heard Cassian’s signature wolf-whistle and a hiss from Amren _to cut it out or else_.

This was the part where Feyre was supposed to listen.

“Feyre Archeron, do you-”

“Yes,” she breathed eagerly. Everyone laughed. Rhys’s smile grew impossibly brighter, his thumb rubbing against the back of her hand.

“Let the man finish, darling,” Rhys tells her, all fondness. “You haven’t sworn to take care of me when I’m sick, yet.”

“Now that’s a real commitment,” Mor drawls from behind her. Laughter comes from the guests.

Feyre blushes, allowing the officiant to continue. This time she waits for the end, for the man to reach the question mark; Rhys raises an eyebrow at her, and if she wasn’t so happy, Feyre might have told him he was a prick.

“I do,” she says. The officiant gives permission for Rhys to kiss his bride.

Her fiance- her husband’s- eyes glimmer with happy tears, and Feyre bites her own lip to keep from ruining all of Nesta’s hard work on her makeup. He leans towards her readily, cupping her face with one hand and swiping his thumb across her cheek.

Feyre meets him eagerly for a gentle kiss, and the newlyweds earn a collective sigh from the gathered guests, even Mor has nothing smart to say.

Yet, Feyre protests when Rhys begins to pull away, one hand tugging his lapel to keep him close. Rhys chuckles and leans back in, groaning when she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip. They deepen their kiss immediately, and Rhys’s hand slides from her cheek and into her hair, irreverent of the meticulous style. Feyre hums, gripping his jacket tighter.

“Yeah, that seems about right,” Azriel sighs from his spot in line. Cassian groans. Mor is trying to hide her sniffles, but it’s Amren clicking her tongue that persuades the couple to part at last.

Rhys’s face is all-male arrogant pride when he smiles down at her, and even if she is blushing madly, Feyre feels very little shame as she wipes at his lips to rid his face of her lipstick.

Rhys is her husband now, she gets to kiss him as much and however- wherever- she wants.


End file.
